Reaping the whirlwind

[Stylin' Kyle Roberts [REBEL]]

(Hey, remember on Tuesday, when Kyle Roberts was looking like he hadn't slept or showered or shaved in days? When it looked like he was going through a crisis of faith? Yeah, those sure were angst-ridden times. When he turns around to face the camera in this, his first promo after beating the ever loving hell out of his beat friend and tag team partner, Bruce Richards, it's like you're looking at a new Kyle. There's a glint in his eye that hasn't been there for a month. A spring in his step that seems extra gleeful.

Yes, Kyle Roberts is loving life. And as he walks through Londonderry Mall, he talks to the ever-present camera.)

KYLE ROBERTS: It's funny. Everywhere I go, people are glaring at me like I just killed their dog. Now and then, a fan will walk up to me with a tear in their eye asking "Why, Kyle? Why did you turn on Bruce "The Beast" Richards? Why did you know him unconscious with a steel chair? Why did you continue the assault with the ring bell? Why did you try to break his back with the sickest Beartamer anybody's seen?"

And I tell each and every one of them the same thing:

You want to know why I felt that the New and Improved D-X had to die? You want to know why Bruce Richards felt my wrath?

You don't deserve to know.

If you want to know the answers to all these very valid questions, you'll just have to buy yourself a ticket to Calgary's Tuesday Night Fights. I'll reveal my motivations then. That, and you get to see me the beat holy (BLEEP)ing hell out of one snot-nosed rookie who feels he's entitled to a Television Title shot. That's right, twice the Stylin' Kyle Roberts action in one night. Don't you feel lucky?

Now, about the unlucky bastard who's got me on his dance card come Tuesday, Sam Finn...

(Kyle shakes his head and clucks his teeth.)

Sam, Sam, Sam. I know you're new here and all, but really, using a metaphor about storms?

"Isn't mankind inferior to a storm?"

Sure, there's a raw brutality to nature that does what it wants when it wants without giving us a care in the world. If you WANT to give nature a personality like that.

But this is WRESTLING, Finn. I'm not Paul Bunyan, Sam, this isn't some folk tale about a giant wrestling a tornado. You're no natural disaster. You're just some nineteen-year-old kid trapped in a ginormous body.

(BLEEP) the allegory, Finn. Because you want to know where it breaks down? You're a hell of a lot slower than a tsunami. You're not as devastating as an ice storm. You're as dumb as hail, that I'll give you.

I'm not sure what sort of message Rex was trying to send to you by putting Sam Finn in a match against me, the man who's faced larger men than you and taken them down like they were destined for the Weyerhauser paper mill. All I know is that for the first time in a long time, I'm going to have fun with an opponent.

I'm going to enjoy taking you to school, son. You'll be the first example of, heh, well, a New and Improved Kyle Roberts. I'll take you down so fast, you'll have tapped to the Beartamer before Frank Warburton manages to remember who the hell you are.

Don't be ashamed in tapping out for my superior submission skills, kid. Better men than you have left the arena knowing that they were nothing but my bitch in that ring. There's a reason I'm a five-time champion.

So think one second before you make another lame-assed reference about how you're a storm that's going to take me out. To me, you're not a six foot nine, three-hundred pound monster. You'll simply be one defeated man among many. Like every other opponent I've faced, you'll be another statistic on my way to becoming recognized as the most awesome wrestler that this world has ever seen.

Don't worry, Stormy. Next week, you can go back to beating up on the dregs of this company. Hell, you might even be able to beat Joey Winchell. Someday. But first, you'll be enrolling in a seminar of how Kyle Roberts is able to school you. Just be thankful it's only one pinfall.

(Kyle enters the Bay as the camera fades.)